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by the-nerd-word
Summary: Cain and Abel during the final battle against the Colterons. Because kissing.


"Abel, I don't think–" A tremor ran through their ship, his hands, his voice.

"I know," Abel acknowledged, and his words were almost lost amidst the static and the shots. "I know."

Cain could see the outline of his navigator in the front seat, could see the way Abel's black-clad shoulders trembled with understanding and the fear that came with it. The final battle was to be their shepherd.

The interior of the Reliant flashed red, emphasizing words Cain had already read several times: Warning; intensive damage sustained; seek assistance immediately. On and on, like they didn't already know, like the ship's controls hadn't already locked up. It was all food for their eyes, meanwhile the com-link shrieked brokenly around them. "Hydrant… down! -erius-… repeat… All units… pull ba-… Reliant, do you cop-… all un- retreat!" It cut off with one last hiss before their ship was bathed in silence. Outside, in the cold, unforgiving confines of space, peels of light raced across black as Starfighters and Colteron vessels alike met explosive ends. But the silence, it was thick, it was king.

Cain took a deep breath through his mouth. One flash, inhale. Two flashes, hold it. Another flash, exhale. The whole thing was harder than it should've been; his chest had become heavy, and his lips, tongue, throat– bitter.

"Cain?"

Another breath.

"Yeah?

"I don't know what to do." A hitch, that first real taste of hopelessness; Cain wondered if Abel's mouth was bitter too.

Before he could ask, the ship's flashing suddenly stopped, and then everything was dark.

"The power," Abel whispered. "That's it. There's nothing else…"

When his voice faltered, silence reigned once more. To their right, enemy ships raced by, joining a foray they could no longer see. Another explosion offered peripheral glimpses of carnage, but that was it.

Cain watched Able remove his helmet. He didn't think those hands had ever shaken so much.

Habit made him want to ridicule, to spit bravado with mean words and bullish self-assurances. But it was instinct that made the next breath easier.

"Abel, do you think you could make it back here?"

There was a short pause. "I think so." Another pause, and this time surprise was nestled in his voice, like the ebbing of adrenaline was bringing on realizations: "I think some of my ribs are broken."

Cain nodded despite the shadowed gap between them. "Just be careful," he said gently. "And try to hurry."

With some maneuvering, Abel wiggled out of his seat and managed to slip past the side paneling and into the small confines of the fighter's station. He stood with one foot on Cain's seat and one on the armrest, hunched over and awkwardly clinging to the overhead sliders. His face was paler than usual, and he had to grit his teeth against the sharp pain in his sides, but he managed to ease down until he was straddling Cain's lap.

"Just like before, right?" Cain asked, grinning.

Abel smiled back and nodded, the tops of his cheeks turning a happy pink. "Yeah," he said, appreciating this small comfort in the face of their deaths. "You called me weird."

"You are," Cain assured him amusedly. "But I kind of like that."

Abel pressed a hand gingerly against Cain's cheek, expression dimming. "You're bleeding. It looks like a pretty deep cut."

Cain shrugged his hand off. "Just a scrape. Don't fuss."

Abel nodded slowly, struggling to look past their injuries despite the knowledge that there wouldn't be a _tomorrow_ to worry about. He took a breath to steady his nerves, wincing only a little before rearranging himself on Cain's lap. "Hey, Cain, do you think –"

"Luka."

Abel blinked. "What?"

"My name," Cain explained. "It's Luka."

Abel blinked curiously, and the smile he quickly gave was warm. "Luka," he murmured, testing the name with a tilt of his head. "Luka… It's nice to meet you. I'm Ethan."

Cain snorted and rolled his eyes, but he smiled back. "Ethan, huh? Well then." He leaned forward, brushing his lips against Abel's once, twice. "Nice to meet you too," he murmured into that soft, eager mouth.

Abel wrapped his arms around Cain's shoulders, ignoring the pain as he pressed his chest to his partner's, desperately offering and taking all means of comfort he could. He gave a throaty little moan when he tasted Cain's tongue, and a distant part of his mind registered the familiar taste of cigarettes and cinnamon as home.

Cain caught Abel's lower lip in his teeth, and he felt the subtle ridge of scar tissue he had left behind all those months ago. Gently, he sucked on that scar, pulling away only to leave a trail of kisses on the side of Abel's mouth. He unzipped Abel's uniform enough to expose his back, running his hands across his pale skin with loving touches, needing to feel the warm expanse of Abel's back even if he already knew every line of muscle and spine, the way it arched and shifted, flexed and rolled.

Their kissing began to grow frantic, both of them gasping between each raw touch. Cain's lips sought his navigator's throat, and his tongue pressed greedily against Abel's pulse point. Relishing the heat at his neck, Abel let out whimpers, eyes closed as he gripped Cain's hair. He moved his hips, swaying with a rhythm he felt Cain meet. Before long, their lips found crushing purchase once more, and they shared their breath as they both silently told themselves that it was all okay, that everything would be okay.

Chest to chest, they felt each other's heartbeats, strong flutters of heat and promise and life.

And when the Reliant lit up in a blinding flash of white, it was that feeling of life that carried them on.


End file.
